


It Must Be A Curse

by omgbubblesomg



Series: Mind Over Matter [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: At Least He Thinks He's Cursed, Bottom Dean, Cursed Dean, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Gaslighting, Hurt Dean, Love Bites, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostitutes, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Spanking, Telekinesis, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7684186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks he's been hit by a sex curse that won't let him get hard unless Sam's around, but Sam knows the truth. He's been using telekinesis to stop blood flowing southward, and he won't let Dean come until he asks Sam to fuck him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Must Be A Curse

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of a series, but you don't have to read them in order. Although the first gives a bit of background to Sam's appetite for Dean ;)  
> The first fic is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7041211)

Dean could be pretty intelligent when he wanted to, but there were some things that he was simply clueless about. Laundry powder, for example, was beyond his mental grasp. He could sniff out a vamp nest in ten seconds flat but give him a coffee stain and a washing machine and he was lost.

Sam’s blood-drinking and subsequent telekinesis had also failed to attract Dean’s attention, and Sam had used his new powers mercilessly to achieve something else that Dean was clueless about.

That ‘something else’ was sex.

More specifically, it was Sam’s silent promise to himself that Dean wasn’t going to be coming unless it was Sam who made him.

It started innocently enough (if ‘a newfound lust for your older brother’ can be called innocent), and Sam contented himself to simply wrap a sneaky tendril of power around the base of his brother’s dick whenever he thought Dean was going to get some alone time. Sam had almost missed it a few times, when Dean had snuck off to a restaurant bathroom or the parking lot beside the library, desperately trying to relieve the ache in his balls. Sam had stopped him every time though, hard at the thought of Dean stripping himself uselessly and unable to come.

As an addition to the ongoing prank Sam was perhaps slightly less quiet than usual when he took his own showers, letting himself moan at the feel of his hand, and exiting the bathroom with a content expression, while silently gleeful at Dean’s looks of jealousy and anger.

Then Sam increased his demon blood quota, and he found he didn’t even need to consciously wrap around Dean’s hard body. A pinch to a few well-chosen blood vessels meant his brother couldn’t even get hard, despite the month-long build-up of pressure in his balls. The only time Sam loosened his hold was when he left the shower, naked and dripping. He made sure Dean could see every inch of skin and then he let a few blood vessels go, directing heat southward as he did. Sam called this ‘conditioning’. He wanted Dean to get used to the idea of being hard around him, and hoped that eventually his older brother would take some further action on this point.

The conditioning did not go according to plan.

The first time, Sam didn’t even look at his brother, just waltzed across the room to pick up some clothes, and let a few blood vessels go as he did.

“Dude,” said Dean from the bed, “at least use a towel or something.”

Sam shrugged.

“Seriously,” his brother continued, “I do not need to be seeing  _that_  every time you take a goddamn showe-”

The penny dropped, and Dean lost his sentence immediately. He raced for the bathroom, keeping his body side-on to hide his tented pants from Sam. As soon as he the lock clicked, Sam put pressure back on the blood vessels, and laughed as Dean’s dick softened, falling flaccid again. Dean swore long and loud as Sam got dressed.

The second conditioning attempt went much the same as the first, as did the third, fourth and fifth. It took another fortnight before Dean finally decided on a course of action.

The thing was, Dean worked best when under pressure. He could generally be counted on to fight his way out of any situation, and the more bad guys, the better. A sudoku was beyond his powers of comprehension, but a locked door and a dozen ghosts and he was suddenly a whirlwind of action. If the world needed saving, or a demon needed killing, Dean could think his way out of the mess. A plan for every problem.

Today, the problem was sex.

And Dean’s plan?

Prostitutes.

Three of them.

A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. The blonde was bronzed and exotic in floating silks, the brunette was pale and young and pure, and the redhead was wearing leather and a wicked grin. Clearly, Dean was covering every fetish possible. Sam watched invisibly as Dean ushered the ladies into a private room. An hour earlier, Dean had told Sam he was going to a bar, and Sam had dutifully nodded his acknowledgement while simultaneously checking the blood vessels he was controlling, and pressing down a few extra in precaution. His jaw clenched at the mere thought of someone else’s hands on his brother, but he had decided that getting Dean to come to him of his own volition was worth it. Especially since Dean wasn’t going to be able to do much with his expensive dates anyway.

Just to be sure, he flicked his mind into the motel room every ten minutes or so, surreptitiously checking in on the four. The blonde and brunette were plastered against Dean, their hair in waves against his bare skin, their tongues and hands roaming freely across his body. The redhead lounged lazily beside the bed, smirking as she held a vibrator against herself. Dean was soft, and the girls got more adventurous with their hands, trying to elicit a response. One of them bit his ear while the other sucked him wetly.

Nothing.

Dean was a sweaty mess between them. Sam watched him writhe. Dean knew he  _should_  be hard, but something was wrong. He was close to howling with frustration.

Sam smirked. Dean was  _his_.

Ten minutes later and the blonde and brunette were side by side on the bed on their backs, reaching up to stroke and tease Dean who hovered on all fours above them. The redhead was caressing a palm over his ass, soothing the red imprint of her hand from his skin. Dean’s arms were trembling, and there were bite marks on his chest and around his nipples, presumably from the ladies trying to get a reaction. Sam soothed the skin around them, and redirected the blood that had marked his brother’s flesh, hoping the hickies would be invisible by the time Dean came home.

He watched with interest as the redhead slapped Dean again, making him jerk. The brunette leaned up to lick a drop of sweat from Dean’s collarbone, and the blonde squeezed her breasts invitingly. It was an erotic image - pale skin next to bronzed, lust blown eyes and inviting red lips. Dean kept staring, resting his weight on one hand to reach across and touch a cheekbone, a shoulder, a peaked nipple.

Nothing.

The next time Sam tuned in, the air of excitement and teasing had gone. The women were professionals, after all, and Sam got the distinct impression that they weren’t used to this kind of response from their clientele. Dean looked a little anxious at the change in pace, but a quick check confirmed his blood was still attempting to pump its way southward.

“I never get to use this,” the redhead was cooing, and Sam altered the angle of his vision to see what she was holding.

“I-I’ve never...” Dean stuttered, eyes fixed on the black dildo in her hand.

“Shh, baby, we’ll take good care of you.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, gorgeous,” said the blonde in a husky voice, stroking up his sides. “Everyone needs a little spice in the bedroom sometimes.”

"This is about your pleasure, baby. You say stop and we stop, okay?”

Dean agreed, and the three women grinned at each other. This wasn’t the first guy they had shared, apparently. They meant business.

Unfortunately for Dean, so did Sam.

The redhead flipped Dean onto all fours again, and then pushed against his shoulders until his hips were angled upward. Sam huffed a laugh. Amateurs. He would have put Dean on his back to fully appreciate the view. He let Dean get momentarily hard, though, as a reward for bending over, and the redhead hissed in approval, congratulating herself.

“ _Dean_ ” Sam whispered, a tiny breath of air against Dean’s ear. Then he laughed out loud as he forced Dean back into softness, caressing his brother’s oversensitive dick as he did.

 _There’ll be time for more of that later_ , he told himself.

Someone had pulled out a foil sachet of lube, and had squeezed the contents over Dean’s ass, letting it dribble between his cheeks. Dean was taking deep breaths to steady himself, and his shoulders were squared toward the bed, as though he was readying himself for a fight.

Sam smirked, and with a mental twist he tightened the muscles in Dean’s ass and thighs. No one was going to be fucking his brother except him. And nothing was going to get in that ass without Sam’s permission. He smirked again, opened a book, and settled himself in to wait.

He didn’t have to wait long.

\-----------------------------------

An hour later and Dean had to call it quits. Something was wrong. He was broken. He cursed himself glumly as he watched the women leave. A whole month of saving and it hadn’t worked. And it’s not like they hadn’t tried. Dean’s ass cheeks were still slippery from the liberal amount of lube they had poured down there, in an attempt to loosen something,  _anything_ up. Over an hour with the three hottest women he could find and the only time he had been hard was when none of them were touching him, as he was bending over on the bed. They’d tried the same position, same technique, for an hour, but nothing worked. The worst part was that Dean knew why. He’d heard his brother’s voice, or at least, one of the ladies had whispered his name in Sam’s voice, and that had made his dick perk up.

He climbed into the impala and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He must have been cursed, he knew. He’d been going through the books for a month to try and figure out the source (and the counter-curse to break it), but nothing matched. His balls were literally aching, and it was getting difficult to walk. It was going to start affecting his fighting, and that was unacceptable. One way or another, he had to come. Soon.

The problem was that he could still get hard, but apparently only when his brother was in the room, and Dean knew what came next.

God, Sam was going to  _freak_.

When he opened the motel door, Sam was flicking the page of his book. He didn’t even look up.

How was the bar?” he asked. Dean didn’t respond, and Sam glanced up. Dean was covered in bruises and hickeys, with the obvious shape of teeth etched into his collarbone and neck. It was even worse under his shirt.

“ _Jesus_ ,” said Sam, doing a double take. “I hope you checked to make sure she wasn’t a werewolf, Dean.”

“Sam,” said Dean, and the word was both a warning and a plea.

“I mean, woah, she sure did a number on you.”

“Sam,” Dean repeated. “Something’s wrong.”

Sam was out of his seat in an instant, hands on Dean as he looked for injuries.

“Dean! Where? What happened?”

“Ease it, Sam, I’m fine.”

Sam wasn’t listening, and was guiding Dean to a chair. He pulled out their med kit, reaching for the alcohol swabs.

“Sam  _I’m fine_ , man, put that away.”

“Some of these broke the skin, Dean, will you at least let me clean them so you don’t get a flesh-eating virus?”

Dean let Sam pull his shirt off, and was pleasantly surprised and immensely grateful when Sam didn’t comment on the mess of his chest and stomach. In fact, Sam’s hands felt cool against his overheated skin, and he thought he felt his dick twitch in interest.

 _Shut up_ , he told it, weary and in pain.  _Shut up, shut up, shut up_.

“So,” said Sam, “you going to tell me what happened?”

“I-I think I’m cursed,” Dean blurted, and felt tears begin to prick his eyes. “Don’t... don’t laugh, okay?”

“Symptoms?” Sam asked, all business. Dean hissed as a particularly deep scratch on his back got rinsed in burning alcohol.

“Seriously, Sam, promise you won’t laugh.”

“That bad, huh?”

Dean buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, Dean, listen, we’ve dealt with curses before, and we’ll deal with this one too.” Dean just shook his head mutely. “I promise I won’t laugh,” Sam continued. “Why don’t you start by telling me when you got it?”

“Almost two months ago,” Dean said into his hands.

The antiseptic swab paused for a moment before digging into a wound on his ribs. Dean winced.

“Almost two months,” Sam repeated hollowly, and Dean thought he sounded pissed.

“I thought I could fix it,” said Dean, still talking into his hands.

“Jesus, Dean, two months? You let it go for two months? If it was a witch they’re probably in a different country by now!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay,” said Sam, and then he was packing away the swabs and pulling Dean’s hands away from his face. His eyes were wide and concerned as he looked at Dean. “Okay, Dean, you’re not going to like this,” Dean groaned, “but you’re going to have to tell me everything.”

Dean told him.

Sam sat in stunned silence as he listened. Dean thought his brother might make a run for it when Dean told him about getting hard when Sam was naked, but Sam just clenched his jaw and remained silent.

“So I hired some, um, professionals, but they couldn’t help at all, and well, here we are,” he finished lamely.

There was silence for a few moments.

“Are... are you hard right now?” Sam eventually asked.

Dean shook his head miserably, and then gaped as Sam stood and in one motion pulled his shirt over his head.

“How about now?”

Dean was about to shake his head again but then his dick swelled up, fast, and all of a sudden his jeans were too tight. He groaned and cupped himself, falling sideways onto the floor. Sam was at his side in a moment.

“Shit, Dean, this is so bad.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean gasped, trying to pull the fabric away from his suddenly sensitive crotch. He pawed at the zipper ineffectually, and almost didn’t notice Sam’s arms slink under his legs and around his back until he was being hoisted into the air.

“ _Sam_ ,” he wheezed, hot and cold from the feel of Sam’s bare chest against his own. “Oh  _shit_ , Sam.” Then Sam was dumping him onto the bed, and unzipping his jeans as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

The word  _stop_  was on the tip of his tongue, but then Sam was yanking his pants down and his dick was springing against his belly, gloriously erect. Dean thought he might cry in relief. He wrapped a hand around himself, oblivious of his younger brother standing only a foot away. He groaned in satisfaction and arched into the touch, his eyes falling shut.

And then it happened again. He was seconds from coming, his orgasm already cresting like a wave, and then suddenly... he wasn’t. Like the wave had simply receded back into the sea. His dick went soft in his hand, and he let out a single sob.

“ _Sam_!”

“’M right here, Dean.”

Dean opened his eyes and looked at Sam, who was looking awkward and unsure in just his pants, and Dean realised he had just given himself a hand job while his brother watched. His dick immediately began to swell again, and Dean let out another sob.

“I-I can’t keep doing this,” he sounded pitiful, even to his own ears. “Sam, oh God, oh God.”

“It’s okay Dean, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” And then Sam was reaching down and fitting his hand around Dean’s erection, and Dean’s whole body went limp.

“ _Please_ , Sam” he moaned, long and low, and sucked in great lungfuls of air.

“I can’t believe you let it get this bad,” said Sam, not even sounding flustered to be holding his brother’s dick.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean whined, writhing, barely realising what he was saying. “Won’t do it again.”

“Good,” said Sam, and Dean thought his brother sounded satisfied, but realised he must have imagined it. Everything was getting a bit jumbled in his head as two months of _need_ made itself known. He couldn’t believe that it was possible to need to come this badly. He thought he might die first. He ignored the throbbing in his balls and focused on Sam’s hand instead, letting his eyes fall shut.

“This isn’t working,” growled Sam, after a minute had passed and Dean had progressed from _wrecked_ to _completely wrecked_ but wasn’t any closer to coming.

“Don’t stop!” he yelled, as Sam’s hand disappeared, and then screamed as it was replaced with heat, and wet, and the sliding feeling of a tongue.

 _I’m going to hell_ , Dean thought, with sudden clarity, and then he remembered the pain of the last few weeks and realised he might already be in hell.

 _My brother is sucking me off_ , he said to himself. _My brother is sucking me off_.

And if Dean was being honest, Sam was doing a surprisingly good job of it, too. It felt like he had three hands. There was pressure against his entire length, and fingers caressing his swollen balls, and there was the unfathomably wet heat of Sam’s mouth, his tongue sliding patterns against the underside of Dean’s cock.

One of Sam’s fingers trailed lower, and he paused, pulling up to the sound of Dean’s protests.

“Dean,” Sam said, “why is there lube all over your ass?”

Dean groaned, and flung an arm over his eyes. The saliva on his dick was cooling, and he could feel a slight breeze as Sam crawled up Dean’s body to lie at his side. Sam pulled Dean’s arm off his face.

“Dean?” he prompted.

“One of the, uh, girls tried to… I mean, she was going to… with a… you know…”

“Do you… do you think that would help?”

“I… I thought it was working, yeah, but then it, you know, _didn’t_.”

“Maybe you’re supposed to be with a guy, Dean. Maybe that’s what this curse is telling you.”

“Oh, shit,” said Dean, realising Sam must be right. “You gotta… you gotta get outta here, man. Shit!” He curled in on himself as his balls throbbed painfully. “Just, just leave me the laptop,” he wheezed, “so I can find someone in the area.”

“Do you even know where we _are_ , Dean? Like hell I’m going to leave you here like this when any fucking monster could walk in and end you. Would you even try and stop them?”

Dean just whimpered in response.

“Just… let me help, Dean.”

Then Sam’s gentle hands were rolling Dean onto his back again, and the wet heat of his mouth was on Dean’s erection once more, but this time Sam’s clever fingers skipped right over Dean’s balls and instead slid through the mess of lube and further.

Dean felt the pressure of a single finger against his hole, and groaned inwardly. They’d tried this already. One of the women had poked and prodded and teased endlessly, trying to get her tiny pinkie finger into Dean.

“Sam, stop,” Dean said, starting to sit up. “It won’t work, I’ve-” and then he yelped as Sam’s finger pushed and it was suddenly inside him.

“ _Jesusfuckingchrist_ ,” Dean cursed, and then cursed some more. “Fuck! Oh fuck! Sam!”

 “There is a _lot_ of lube down here,” mused Sam, as though he was looking at a weather report, not his own finger inside Dean’s ass. “Do you think you can take two?” Without waiting for a reply, Sam pushed a second finger in alongside the first, and curled them. Some sensitive part of Dean sparked, and he gave a full-throated moan. He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, surprised at the sound he’d made. He opened his eyes to look down his body at Sam, who was staring back at him. For a moment, Dean thought his brother looked… hungry. But then the moment passed and it was just concern on Sam’s face.

“Sorry,” Dean gasped.

“It’s supposed to feel good, Dean. That’s kind of the point.”

“Yeah but you don’t need to hear it. Shit, this must be so weird for you. Jesus, Sam, I’m so sorry.”

“You were practically crying twenty minutes ago. I much prefer these sounds. Don’t bottle them up, Dean. It’s better if I know what you’re enjoying. I want to hear you.” There was a pause. “For the curse, you know. It’s better if I know what the curse is doing to you.”

Dean tried to work that out in his head, but something didn’t add up. His brain was preoccupied and didn’t have much energy to spare for second-rate tasks like _thinking_ , but Dean valiantly tried to do it anyway.

“Sam,” he began, cautiously, and then gasped as Sam added a third finger, pushing into Dean deliciously. He lost the thread of his thought, and pushed back against Sam’s fingers, rocking himself in time with Sam’s thrusts.

A few minutes passed, and Dean’s muscles began to ache with exertion.

“I’m not noticing any improvement,” Sam eventually said, and he sounded way too calm given the situation.

“Just… a little… longer…” said Dean, who felt like he would come any instant. Every one of his muscles was tensed, and his jaw ached from clenching it so hard.

“Dean,” said Sam, and he managed to sound admonishing.

“Don’t… stop… Sam…”

Sam stopped, and Dean’s entire body collapsed back against the bed. He stared at the ceiling in despair.

“I’m going to die,” he told it miserably.

“No you’re not,” said Sam, crawling up Dean’s body to lie next to him again. “I won’t let that happen.”

“It’s not working, Sam. Something’s wrong.”

“Do you think maybe the curse wants… something more?”

“Something _more_?”

“I mean, come on, Dean, this curse is pointing in a pretty specific direction, I’d say.”

“Don’t say it.”

“It shares so many similarities to a sex curse…”

“Don’t say it, Sam.”

“I think we’re going to have to-”

“DON’T SAY IT”

“Fuck.”

Dean stared at the ceiling some more.

“Dean,” Sam started.

“Yeah I heard you, Sam. Gimme a minute.”

“Waiting is just going to make this worse.”

“Just gimme a minute!” Dean yelled, fighting against tears of frustration that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

“Fine!” snapped Sam, and he sat up, away from Dean. As soon as their bodies stopped touching, Dean felt himself begin to go soft again, and his balls were practically screaming in protest.

“Wait!” hissed Dean, already trying to curl in on himself. “Sam, come back.”

“Well do you want me or not, Dean?” Sam said, sounding pissed. He had his hands on his hips.

“I want…” Dean began, then faltered. His balls gave a particularly painful twist, as though egging him on. “Shit! Okay! Fuck me, Sam!”

Thankfully, Sam didn’t second guess Dean or try to make him repeat himself. He just crawled back onto the bed beside Dean, until they were touching again. Dean was hard again in seconds, and he swore inwardly. The curse wasn’t going to let him go until he did this.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam was saying. “It won’t hurt. I’ll be here the whole time.”

“That’s kind of the part I’m worried about,” muttered Dean, and his balls squeezed as though in reprimand.

Sam shimmied out of his pants and boxers, and then rolled on top of Dean, so their bodies were flush. Sam was hard, and a drop of precum gleamed at the tip of his cock. Dean stared at it in jealousy, and then his eyes widened as he took in the rest of Sam’s length. _Was that supposed to fit inside him?_

“Don’t worry,” said Sam, reading Dean’s apprehension. “It’ll fit. Spread your legs.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and let his legs fall apart. Sam fell between them easily, and immediately shifted to line himself up.

“Sam!” squawked Dean. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Lift your leg up.” Then Sam hooked one of Dean’s knees and bent it upward, slinging it over his shoulder. Dean had a moment to realise that he was now fully bared for Sam, before his brother’s dick was pushing up against him and then slowly, horrifically, pushing inside him.

“No, no, no,” Dean chanted.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Sam hissed, and Dean didn’t really have an opportunity to think about that because then his brother was pulling out and pushing back in.

“Sam!” Dean yelped.

“Dean!” Sam moaned right back at him, and then picked up the pace.

Every nerve was already electrified, but this was almost too much. It felt absolutely wrong to have his brother above him, panting and thrusting, but Dean’s body didn’t seem to care. He was so hard that Sam’s belly felt like sandpaper whenever it rubbed against him, and he couldn’t stop himself from pushing back against the dick pounding into him.

“Make me come,” he begged. “ _Please_.”

Sam growled and bent low, folding Dean’s leg further as he went. Dean reached up to hold him by the shoulders, to stop him getting any closer, but Sam paid his weak resistance no mind, and nestled his head into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“ _Sam_ ,” Dean moaned, feeling the wave of his orgasm ride high, worried that it was going to recede again. “Sam, _please_.”

Sam growled again, then turned his head to whisper in Dean’s ear. “Come, Dean,” he ordered. “Come for me.”

And then the wave was crashing, and Dean was lost. His back arched off the bed completely, and a back corner of his mind was aware that he was shooting right up his chest and splattering his own chin. He was shaking, and couldn’t even see Sam above him, though he could feel the cock inside him twitching. He thought Sam might be kissing his chest, but that didn’t seem right, and anyway the room was getting dark, so it probably didn’t matter.

“I’ve got you,” Sam’s voice was saying from across a distant sea. “You’re mine, Dean. I’ve got you.”

“Sam?” Dean slurred, and tried to locate his brother geographically.

“Right here, Dean. I’ve got you.”

Dean thought Sam’s eyes were black, but then the whole room was going black, and he surrendered himself to the darkness.

Sam curled himself around Dean’s unconscious body, swiping a finger across his brother’s chest and admiring the sticky mess. He licked at the blood seeping from the bite mark on Dean’s shoulder, where he’d buried his teeth. He tiredly ordered the skin around it not to heal.

After a few minutes, when his post-orgasmic haze had faded, his eyes flicked back to normal and he settled himself further around Dean’s back, pulling his brother in closer. Before he fell asleep, he found the blood vessels leading to Dean’s dick, and pinched them off again. Dean was _his_.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry you had to wait for this for so long.  
> I'm thinking a part three with more 'conditioning', or maybe with Dean finally figuring out what Sam's been up to.  
> Love your thoughts, comments and feedback.


End file.
